Besotted
by kcpiratey05
Summary: Takes place post COTB. Prequel to "Trouble". Jack pays Elizabeth a late night visit.
**Besotted.**

Jack burst through his cabin door in a fluster. He had finally squared with the fact that the Isla De Muerta had sunk to the bottom of the ocean and had decided to see where his compass would take them next. They sailed for weeks only to find themselves facing the all too familiar coastline of Port Royal. Why in the bloody hell would his compass lead him back here? He thought grimly. The only thing that awaited him in this blasted place was the hangman's noose.

He sat at his desk with compass open in front him. It spun around again and rested firmly in the direction of the port. Surely, this was what he wanted least. He dropped his head in his hands.

Gibbs entered, quietly peering through the partially opened door. "Cap'n, are you all right?"

"Not presently." He mumbled, face down in his hands.

"If I may ask, what are we doing here? Norrington has been on our tail for weeks. If he finds us here we will be cornered and, worse, outnumbered." Gibbs shifted nervously.

"A fact not lost on me, I assure you. I wish I had an answer for you, mate, but it seems the compass is broken after all."

"The compass led you here?" Gibbs asked in surprise.

"Aye. Bloody useless thing." Jack swiped it off of the desk.

Gibbs gave a crooked smile. "Perhaps it's not as broken as you think."

"Beg your pardon?" Jack lifted his head to look at his first mate.

"Anything particular on your mind these days? Or rather _anyone_?" Gibbs gave him a wink.

"I don't know what you mean."

"I seem to recall you spending quite a lot of breath talking about the young Miss Swann on our way out of Port Royal."

"I think you've been too much in the drink, Mister Gibbs." Jack answered shooing away the thought with his hand.

"Maybe so, but it doesn't take a sober man to see that you're besotted with the lass."

"Besotted?! Hah. That bloody wisp of a thing nearly got me killed."

"She fought for your life."

"She burned me rum."

"Jack. You're no fool and your compass is not broken."

"So, what am I supposed to do?" He threw his arms up.

"I don't have the answer to that, but we can't stay here for much longer, so best decide quickly." Gibbs turned on his heel and exited the cabin.

Jack ran a hand over his face and looked to the floor at the fallen compass whose lid had opened, taunting him mercilessly.

—

Jack rowed his longboat east of the fort and the main harbor toward a secluded area of beach. Hiding the thing under some brush and drift wood, he headed north toward the direction of the Governor's mansion. He couldn't say what made him decide to actually see her. Surely the risk far outweighed any reward, but Gibbs' words stuck with him. _Besotted. Could that be true?_

 _Madness_ , he thought as he stealthily made his trek. Sneaking into the Governor's house to speak with his only daughter (about what? He didn't quite know) seemed a fool's errand at the very least. Yet, his feet propelled him further.

There was only one way onto the grounds of the mansion, and that was through the main gate. A rather obvious non-option, Jack looked for another way onto the premises. Hundreds of mango trees surrounded the walls of the residence. "Up and over, then" He said to himself.

He shimmied his way up a tree nearest the wall and was about to drop into the gardens when he heard familiar voices talking beneath him. No, not talking…arguing.

"He's given us his blessing, what are you so afraid of?" She asked the young blacksmith, pulling him toward her by the lapels of his coat.

"We're not married yet, Elizabeth. It's not proper."

"To hell with propriety!." She exclaimed at him. Jack had to suppress a chuckle.

"Elizabeth! We're not pirates, or adventurers. We have a life to build here, and I'd like to build it with our reputations in tact." He said grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her away from him by just a foot.

"So that's it then? I'm to be quiet, polite Mrs. Turner who never goes anywhere, does anything, or speaks out of turn. Bare the children, clean the house, make your dinner, is that what you want of me?" She screeched.

"Elizabeth, keep your voice down!" He scolded her, and knew almost instantly it was exactly the wrong thing to say as she slapped him rather hard across the face. "Elizabeth…I…"

She cut him off, "I think you should go home, Will. It's rather late, and an unmarried woman such as myself shouldn't be out speaking with men unsupervised." She turned and walked directly into the mansion without saying another word to the poor whelp.

Mouth agape, Will turned and walked down the drive with his head hung low. Jack sat in the tree for a bit pondering what he had just witnessed. Elizabeth truly wasn't like any woman he'd met in his life. All fire and wit and the desire to be more than what society wished her to be. Besotted was an understatement. He was impressed by her. He admired her.

Jack dropped to the ground and looked up to see which window was hers. If he had to bet, it would be the one with the best view of the ocean. Sure enough, a few moments later, a lamp was lit from the top right window that looked over the harbor, and her lithe figure appeared before the opening, dressed in a mildly transparent dressing gown. Her handmaid had drawn the curtains back and opened the shutters for her. He laughed as Elizabeth shooed her away rather quickly. _She doesn't like to be fussed over. Not surprising._ He Thought.

She leaned over the window sill, took in a large gulp of sea air, and closed her eyes, allowing the slight breeze to wash over her.

Jack watched longingly for a moment. She looked like the figure head of a ship, of his ship in fact, reaching to be free. She was mesmerizing and hauntingly beautiful, calling him toward her like a siren. Without thinking he found himself climbing up the wall toward her window, using the first and second story window ledges at footholds. She'd retreated inside her bedroom by the time he made it to her window.

He watched her as she bent to retrieve something from beneath her bed. He was delighted to see that it was a bottle of very fine rum. She pulled the cork and took a rather large swig, before muttering "Damn you, William Turner."

"A proper lashing you gave him, love. I would have done the same." He said perched inside the window.

"Bloody hell!" Startled, Her heart nearly dropped to the floor as she turned around "Jack?!" She pulled him by his coat sleeve into the room. "Are you mad? You could've been seen!" She whispered loudly.

"Didn't know you cared so much." He said, swiping the bottle from her hands and taking a sip for himself. _Very fine rum, indeed._

"What on earth are you doing here, besides scaring me senseless?" She teased, taking back the bottle forcefully and gulped down a larger swig to calm her nerves. Jack's eyebrows raised in surprise.

Clearing his throat he gave the best answer he could, given the fact he didn't really know what compelled him to come ashore. "Thought I'd check in on the lovely Miss Swann, make sure the whelp was treating you nicely." He silently gestured for the bottle in her hands, this time asking for permission. She rolled her eyes and handed him the bottle.

"A bit dangerous for you to be traipsing about Port Royal, isn't it? I'd hate to see all of our hard work saving you from the noose laid to waste because you fancied a visit." She said as she watched him pace about her room, inspecting her things.

"Norrington was leagues behind us, he'd never imagine I'd be so daft as to return here." He said leaning against the mantle of the fireplace.

"But you are that daft." She smiled, leaning against her bed post.

"Undoubtedly. So tell me, what has the two love birds so at odds with each other?" He inquired of her, sincerely curious as to where her head was at.

"You obviously overheard our conversation, is it necessary for it to be rehashed?" She stared at the floor.

"The boy is afraid to make a false step out of fear of being denied your hand, and you could give a fig about what anyone thinks and would rather be anywhere else but here. Close enough?"

He'd expected a witty retort, a burst of angry ranting, but he hadn't expected tears. Her shoulders hunched and shaking, she desperately clawed at the tears streaming down her face hoping to will them away, terribly mad at herself for showing any weakness. Jack walked over to her and sat her down on the bed next to him.

"None of that, now. No man is worth your tears. Believe that." He said placing a comforting arm around her. She leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder.

"I don't know what to do, Jack. I'm suffocating." She sniffed. "He spends long all day absorbed in his work, in the evenings he and my father discuss plans for our life, _my_ life and refuse to include me in their conversations, and when we do have a moment alone together, he won't touch me. Sometimes I just want to scream. Am I being ridiculous?"

"Hardly, love. William, while he is a very sweet lad, is a touch short sighted. He fails to see the larger picture and thereby is unable to see how is actions affect you, nor does he have the capacity to understand what it is you need." He held her hand in his, examining the details of her long, graceful fingers. "You are unlike anything he has encountered before: A woman with opinions, a desire for knowledge and adventure, a woman who can defend herself, who relies only on herself, who hates the constructs of the life she's been told she must live, a woman who is not easily satisfied. A woman like you, Elizabeth, makes a man obsolete, and for a boy like Turner, tis a scary thought."

She lifted her head from his shoulder and turned toward him. "Do I scare you?"

"You're positively terrifying, love, but I would never be so stupid as to try and cage that which cannot be tamed."

She gave a half hearted laugh and concentrated intently on her bed linens.

"Don't ever let anyone take away the best parts of you, whether you love them or not." He demanded of her, lifting her chin to look at him. "Savvy?"

She nodded once and gave a small smile. "Will you stay for the night?" She asked him out of the blue.

Jack was at a loss for words. Bloody terrifying, she was. Nothing good could come from his staying in the young girl's abode.

"I'd like to pretend that I'm sailing happily aboard the Pearl, sharing a drink with its Captain and listening to tales of his adventures." She amended, hoping she hadn't given the impression that she wanted something else of him.

Jack had to smile at that. 'Anywhere but here' for her was on _his_ ship spending time with _him_. A rather unfamiliar feeling crept into his stomach, a feeling long banished after he became a pirate. _Besotted_.

He appeased her. Jack got up from the bed, removed his coat and draped it over a nearby chair. Walking towards the fireplace, he grabbed the bottle of rum he'd left on the mantle and swaggered back toward her exaggeratedly which made her chuckle. Making himself comfortable, he plopped on the bed, propped himself up against the headboard, and patted the spot next to him, beckoning her to join him.

She looked conflicted for a brief moment, but crawled into the crook of his arm, laying her head against his chest. Jack took a deep pull of liquid from her bottle of rum before handing it to her. She did the same, unashamed of the habit she no doubt got from him.

"So what would you like to hear first?" He asked her.

"I'd very much like to know the story of how you became a pirate."

Jack winced. _Any story but that one._ But she'd already seen the vulnerable side of Captain Jack Sparrow, no sense in trying to hide it now.

So he told her every sodding detail which ultimately led to stories of his childhood and his father, to stories of the mutiny and everything in between. She was enthralled. She'd long since sat up to face him, cross-legged like a child listening to a bed time story. She hung on his every word, even looked as if she might shed a tear for his hardships.

"Well, that's it, you know everything there is to know about me, every secret, every crime. Though, my reputation would appreciate it if some of those stories stayed between us."

"Afraid to show people the good man you are?" She teased him.

"Only so long as I remain an outlaw. That sort of behavior can get a man killed." He smiled taking another sip of rum.

"Your secrets are safe with me as long as you don't share mine." She said taking the bottle away from him and having a sip herself.

"If I may be so bold, love. If you are truly unhappy at present, I don't think that is something that should remain a secret." He regretted shattering the beauty of the last few hours, but he couldn't let her rot in Port Royal.

She sighed. "So, what should I do then?" She asked hoping he had a suitable answer.

"Sail away with me." He said seriously.

"Jack."

"You said you wanted to pretend you were happy on the Pearl…well you don't have to pretend. You can have your adventure, your life, whatever you want, sail wherever you want."

"It's not that simple." She said getting up from the bed and moving toward her window. The moon light shining off the water bathed everything in silhouette. She looked on with longing.

"It can be very simple." He whispered as he came up behind her and pushed her hair to one side, exposing the flesh of her neck. She shivered visibly. He ran a single finger down the back of her dressing gown. She reflexively leaned back against him, relishing in his warm touch.

Jack snaked an arm around her waist, hand splayed across her stomach, the other around her shoulder, allowing his hand access to the whole of her throat. Her breath caught as he let his hand slip down the top of her gown, dragging his fingertips gently across her breast. "I can give you everything you desire." He whispered, pressing his lips to her neck.

She let out a soft moan, making Jack shudder. The lass was like warm butter melting in his hands. He turned her to face him, she placed her hands on her chest, unsure of what to do with them. She looked scared. He brought his hand to her cheek and leaned in, lips hovering just above hers. "Tell me, what is it that you want most?"

She met him the rest of the way and pressed her lips to his. He kissed her deeply, wildly, more passionately than the whelp ever would. She moaned into his mouth and pulled him against her by the front of his shirt. They crashed against the wall next to the window. Elizabeth wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as he ran his hands down the length of her torso, finding a resting place beneath her buttocks. He pulled her hips toward him, pressing his hardness against her, she responded in kind, grinding against him and eliciting an even louder moan.

With one hand still clutching beneath her, Jack began lifting the hem of her dressing gown with the other. He ran his hand along her thigh, caressing her silken skin at the crease of her hip. Carefully, slowly, he moved his hand from her hip toward the downy curls that were the only barrier between his hand and the place he was certain had never been touched. He paused for a moment, fearful to take this any further. He didn't want to ruin the poor girl. She must have sensed his dilemma for she broke the kiss and whispered huskily in his ear. "Please."

Jack didn't need any further convincing. He extended his digits toward her center and the sweet pearl that lay there. She gasped and writhed as he moved his hand back and forth. Her breathing quickened as he too moved fast and faster. She clutched the fabric of his shirt as he gently slipped a finger inside her, exploring her. She ground her hips against his palm as he continued to probe her.

"Oh god." She gasped. "What are you doing to me?"

 _She's close_ , he thought as he lowered his mouth on hers again, at the very least to keep her from screaming out into the night. She was wild, a feral beast in dire need of satiating her appetites. He wondered if she'd ever touched herself before. He slipped another finger inside her and back and forth faster and faster, grazing the rigid spot that drove all the women crazy. He could feel her muscles contracting against them, screaming for release.

It was a good thing he'd covered her mouth with his own, for the guttural scream that issued forth would surely have them both facing the noose at dawn. Sweat beading down her forehead and her breathing ragged she dropped her head to his shoulder. He removed his hand from beneath her gown and rested it at the small of her back holding her close to him.

"I've never felt anything like that before." She mumbled into his shoulder, embarrassed to face him.

"That is what freedom feels like." He whispered into her hair.

They stayed locked in an embrace for quite a while before Jack asked her again. "Will you come with me?"

She looked even more conflicted than the first time he suggested it. She stared into his eyes and then looked out of the window toward the ocean, a vague silhouette of a ship sat on the horizon. He could see the longing there. When she returned her gaze to him her eyes held tremendous sadness.

"I want to, but I can't hurt Will, I can't…" She was growing flustered.

Jack silenced her with a kiss. It was chaste and full of sweet understanding. "You don't have to explain. Should you ever need me, you know where to find me."

"Tortuga?" She smiled.

"Aye" Jack let her go and moved toward the window.

She grabbed his hand before he could climb out, "Can you stay awhile longer?"

He looked at her pleading eyes and then looked back out the window. The dawn would soon break, and it would be difficult for him to sneak away, but he couldn't deny her doe eyed gaze.

With a roll of his eyes he climbed back into her bedroom. "You'll be the death of me someday, Miss Swann" He said as he gathered her into his arms.


End file.
